This Life of Mine
by writingartist94
Summary: Sherlock Holmes hates school. He's bullied, he has no friends. Well, there's his cousin Roger, but he's family, not a friend. Until two wonderful girls come into the picture, and Sherlock's life literally changes forever. The ratings may change in later chapters. This is rated T for language
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock hated school.

Kids were mean to him, they made you shower after gym class. But worst of all was the lack of friends. Fortunately, his cousin Roger would be making his way to join him at school this year. He went to the best private school in the country Alganac Secondary School. It was a Catholic school, and Mummy's idea to send him here. Mycroft had gone here too, instead of Harrow.

"Sherlock!" He turned and found Roger jumping from the car, and running after his cousin. People stared, and many laughed. "Hey, cousin!" Roger clapped Sherlock on the shoulder. It was the first day, and three people had already pushed Sherlock to the side. When he didn't fight back, but kept silently walking, Sherlock was laughed at, and called a freak. He was pretty sure nobody knew his real name, because his name was Freak to them. Sherlock hated them. "How've you been?"

"All right." Sherlock said. They walked, while Roger chatted, towards homeroom. Sherlock and Roger had homeroom together. In fact, they had all of their classes together. Sherlock suspected his father had a part in it, but he didn't say so. They sat down, and the bell rang. The teacher did roll call.

Because his last name started with an H, it wasn't long before he was called.

"Holmes, Sherlock." Like the others, Sherlock raised his hand. "Welcome back Sherlock. Holmes, Roger." A hushed whisper ran around the room. Roger raised his hand. "Welcome. You must be knew." The homeroom teacher was friendly. She was Sherlock (and now Roger's) honors English teacher next hour.

"Yes, ma'm." Roger said. Sherlock was silent.

"Are you boys related?"

"Our dad's are brothers." Sherlock knew that Roger would now be with him in the target for bullying.

"What does your father do, sweetheart?"

"He's a football player." Roger said. He was. Sherlock had been to quite a few of his games. He was rather good.

"Thaddeus Holmes?"

"That's him." A hushed whisper ran around the room.

"Freak, you're related to him?" Malcolm Flynn, the class bully, asked. Sherlock nodded once. "You?" Roger looked at Sherlock in concern. Sherlock turned to Roger, rolled his eyes, and turned silently to his notebook. He was writing his newest discovery on observation. He called it the science of deduction. Sherlock had picked up the skill last school year, when he decided that he wanted to silently figure out who his bullies were.

"All right, settle down." Sherlock continued his work, until the bell rang. Roger and Sherlock stayed behind, because they had English class next. They moved up to the front of the room, where Sherlock always sat to stay out of the line of bullies.

"Did you boys finish your reading lists?" Sherlock nodded, and handed in his reports. Roger pulled his out of his backpack, double checking to make sure none of them were missing.

"All here." Roger said. Mrs. Stacey, the teacher, looked through them. "Well, Sherlock, I must say, you have your brother's talents." Sherlock looked pleased with himself. Two girls came in, looked at Roger and Sherlock, and giggled. They sat behind them, and were talking about their summers, handing in their reports, and sitting down. "Tell me, where is he attending?"

"Oxford, my father's Alma mater." Sherlock said, his voice deeper than most fifteen year old voices were, and polite as all get up.

"Oh, wonderful." Sherlock could feel stares, and noticed the silence. He smirked. Sherlock kept to himself, and his lack of friends made him silent for the school day. If he had to get passed someone, he simply went around them another way. Class began.

By the end of the day, Roger was concerned that Sherlock hadn't spoken to almost anyone. Sherlock and John were in their last class, when the two girls from English...no..._every class_ Roger realized, approached. Roger looked up, and winked.

"Hello, ladies." They giggled.

"We heard you're knew. Roger is it?" Sherlock looked up at her.

"Yes, and can I ask your name?"

"Anna Belle. I go by Anna though." Sherlock glanced at Roger, then smirked. He shook his head, and went back to his notebook.

"Sherlock?" A female voice said softly. Sherlock's eyes went huge, and he looked up into the eyes of...

The absolute most beautiful girl he'd ever seen (sorry Mummy). But Sherlock had never been called by his first name sense he'd hit high school. Sherlock swallowed. _She's really pretty. Normally pretty girls don't affect me. Why do I have the sudden urge to kiss this girl right now._

"You helped me last year with that chemistry exam." Oh, right. She was studying, and he silently handed her a copy of his notes. He wrote down everything in his own way of working it out. She passed the test. "And I never got to thank you." He realized with a jolt that he was talking to Kirsty Jonas. _The_ Kirsty Jonas, captain of the girls football and cheer leading teams. She was the most popular girl in school, and she was talking to him. The Freak. The Snob. The Nerd.

"It's no trouble at all." Sherlock said. "I find my way the best way of figuring Chemistry out."

"Well, it saved my grade." She said. He smiled when she did. _She's got the most gorgeous smile on this planet_. "How are you?"

"I've been...good." Sherlock said, glancing at Roger, who was chatting up Anna. "And you?"

"Terrific." She said, smiling. "Listen, I have honors physics with you too...you wouldn't mind helping me on that when we get into the harder stuff, would you?"

"Not at all. My brother's physics methods are a lot easier to understand." Sherlock said. The bell rang, and the four left the classroom.

"My mum owns a cafe, it's not far from here." Anna said. "How about you guys meet us there tomorrow after school?"

"That's a good idea." Roger said. "You game, Sherlock?"

"Um...I'd have to talk to Mrs. Hudson." Mrs. Hudson was his nanny in his younger days. Now, she was there more or less to greet Sherlock when he came home, make dinner for the family, and keep an eye on the house when they were gone all day.

"Who's that?"

"My house keeper. She takes care of...everything." Sherlock said. "She used to be my nanny."

"Aww, that's sweet. Well, why don't we walk there from here?" They boys agreed, and went home for the day. Sherlock noticed that, when he was with Roger, he was left alone. He liked it better that way.

"Mum's here, I've got to go. I'll call you tonight." Roger said, before dashing off to clamber into his mum's car. Sherlock's driver pulled in next, and Sherlock climbed into the back seat.

"Good afternoon, Sherlock." Joel said. "How was your first day back?"

"All right." Sherlock didn't continue. They rode in silence for the forty-five minute drive. Sherlock climbed out of the car, and went inside, to find Mrs. Hudson waiting in the kitchen with a snack. Today, Sherlock noticed, it was Oreo's, peanut butter (Sherlock's favorite way to eat them) and milk. Sherlock slid onto a stool at the island, and dipped an Oreo into his peanut butter. Mrs. Hudson smiled at him.

"How are you dear?" Sherlock swallowed, and shrugged. "You don't look as sad as you normally do after school, Sherlock. Did you finally make a friend? Or was it Roger?"

"Roger keeps the bullies away." He said simply. "They leave me alone, because I'm not all by myself." Sherlock was quiet for a moment. "Do you think you could send Joel later tomorrow? And at a different location?"

"Of course. Can I ask why?" He could say no. She would never press the matter if he did.

"We met two girls today, and they were really nice to us. Anna Bell Thompson's mother owns a cafe, and she invited us there. Roger is going to call me, and I can get the address from him."

"That's wonderful dear, you've got friends." Sherlock didn't look as hopeful. "Cheer up, love. It's a good thing."

"Mrs. Hudson, I'm the least popular guy in school." Sherlock said, pushing away his empty plate. "Why would the two most popular girls be interested in me and my cousin the new kid?" Mrs. Hudson didn't have an answer for that. Sherlock went upstairs, and waited for his parents to come home. He was there for half an hour before Roger called his personal line.

"Roger."

"Sherlock, I've got the address to the cafe so that we can get picked up."

"That's brilliant." Sherlock said. He wrote it down, and, the name. "Speedy's Cafe you said?"

"Yeah, it's great, apparently. Her uncle and mum co-own it." Sherlock sat down at his desk, and switched the phone from his left ear to his right. They talked a bit longer, before hanging up.

The next day after school, ignoring the mountain of homework in their backpacks, the four made their way to the cafe. It was next to a row of flats. Sherlock looked at the one with 221B written on the door.

"Look's abandoned." Sherlock said.

"It's been vacant for a while. Owner died, nobody ever bought it." Sherlock nodded, and walked into the cafe. They sat down at a table, where they were greated by a smiling woman and menus.

"Well, looks like you brought friends."

"Mum you know Kirsty. This is Sherlock, and Roger Holmes."

"You boy's brothers?"

"Cousins." Roger said. "We get that a lot, though."

"It doesn't help that our father's are twins." Sherlock said. Malcolm walked in with his friends. Sherlock internally groaned.

"I'll be back in a moment." Mrs. Thompson bustled out.

"Hey Jonas, hey Thompson." He greeted the girls.

"Malcolm, what do you want?"

"Just came to get a drink." His eyes rested on Sherlock, who was gripping the laminated menu, and boring his eyes into it to avoid looking at Malcolm. "Well, looks like the Freak really does have friends. Why him, Jonas?"

"He's a freak." Kirsty said. Sherlock felt a wave of gratitude towards her. "Now leave."

"He's not a freak. That's a good joke." Sherlock was willing to ignore it, always had. Roger stood up.

"You calling my cousin a freak, Flynn?" Roger asked. Malcolm looked up at Roger in surprise. Roger was already 6'2" and was bulky from many years of playing football and rugby.

"And if I am?"

"I'll call the cops if you don't leave." Anna stood up too. "Now go."

"Make me."

"Fine then." Kirsty said. Malcolm pushed her down, causing her to fall. She cried out in pain, and they all heard the sickening snap. Sherlock looked at him in fury.

"The Freak _does_ have emotions!" Malcolm said. He shoved Sherlock, but his years and years of self defense lessons prevented him from falling. He stumbled a bit, knocking over the chair, but other wise balanced. He shoved Malcolm, a daring move. They were surrounded by his cronies, but Sherlock didn't care.

"Call the cops." Sherlock said to Anna. She ran.

"The Freak talks!" Malcolm said in shock. His deep, baritone voice surprised the boys.

"Yeah, and I suggest you back off." Sherlock said. "My mother's a lawyer."

"Aww, how cute." One boy said. "He's going to hide behind his Mummy." Everyone laughed. Nobody moved. "You sure she isn't from another planet?" Sherlock froze. Roger gulped. _Nobody_ talked smack about Sherlock's mother. Nobody.

"You take that back you little bastard." Sherlock said menacingly.

"Make me." Sherlock pushed Malcolm back again, and looked at him as if to say "come at me, bro." Malcolm, no longer laughing, pushed Sherlock twice as hard. He stumbled backwords. He was pushed again, out the door, into the street. Sherlock stumbled backwords, and into the middle of the road. Roger and Malcolm's cronies ran after them. Malcolm shoved Sherlock into one, who shoved him into the middle. Malcolm threw the first punch, and collided with Sherlock's nose. Sherlock hit the ground, and groaned. Everyone laughed. He got up, and was kicked in the back. Another jeering laugh. Sherlock rolled over, and using his karate training, pushed up from the ground with his hands and back, and landed on his feet.

"Whoa." Someone said. Sherlock glared, and looked downright scary, with an angry look on his face, and blood gushing from his nose. Sherlock wiped his face off on the back of his sleeve, and glared at Malcolm. When Malcolm came at Sherlock, he ducked so that the punch hit the boy behind him. He tripped Malcolm, and punched another that came after him. Sherlock was proud of his defense technique, until Sherlock felt his arms being held onto, and strong ones that wouldn't let go, no matter how hard he tried. Malcolm sank his fist into Sherlock's eye, jaw, and stomach. They laughed and cheered Malcolm on, while Sherlock recovered. A rib was broken, and restricting his breathing, not to mention the pain his body was experiencing. Suddenly, an officer had a hold of Malcolm, and was slapping cuffs on him. The two guys holding Sherlock were suddenly out cold, thanks to Roger.

"Sherlock, you okay?"

"Are you all right kid?" A man with dark eyes, brown hair, and a slight tan looked at him in concern.

"Not really. I think some of my ribs are broken." He said, clutching his chest. His arms hurt where the two boys had held him. A tall, young man with brown hair and similar features to Sherlock's got out of a car, and went towards Sherlock. "Mycroft?"

"Sherlock, what happened?"

"Some bully beat the shit out him, you idiot, what do you mean 'what happened'?" Roger asked, looked angry.

"How?" Mycroft asked. Roger had an arm around Sherlock, supporting his aching body.

"Dunno. He pushed a girl down, and I pushed him back. She was defenseless. The fall broke her arm." Sherlock said. Years later, he would find that to be very ironic. Kirsty was sitting in the back of a car, her parents looking at her in concern. They drove her away. Hopefully, to the ER. Mycroft went to Sherlock's other side to help support him. He wrapped him arm around Mycroft's shoulders. Wrong move.

"We need to have him...Sherlock?" Roger said. Sherlock was suddenly in severe pain, and was loosing sight of his vision fast. He collapsed to the ground, and coughed up blood, before he fainted.

"Get him in the ambulance now."

"Mycroft, call your parents." Roger shouted. "I'll go with him." Two men lifted Sherlock's light frame onto a stretcher, and zipped him to the ambulance. The Scotland Yard officer and Roger hopped on the ambulance, and Mycroft got into his car, dialing his father's office on his mobile phone. Sherlock was still out. They got to the hospital, and were told to wait in the waiting room, while Sherlock was fixed up. They waited, until two people burst through the 's parents were coming in.. Worry for the only cousin his own age, and relief at the sight of his parents, Roger burst into tears, and clung onto his mother in desperation. She held him tight, and calmed him down. Mycroft was white in the face.

"We'll take him home."

"We can treat him for shock, Miss." A nurse said.

"No, thank you, sir." He nodded and walked away. "We need to get him home, and calmed down. Mycroft, call us please."

"Of coarse, Aunt Myra." He said. They went home. Sherlock would understand. That, and Uncle Nico was terrified of hospitals. He had a downright phobia of them, and Sherlock knew that. They waited for an hour, but, to Mycroft, it seemed like a lifetime. His parents burst in then, ghost white and terrified.

"How's Roger?"

"Aunt Myra and Uncle Nico took him home. They wanted to calm him down, get the story."

"And, Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson came into the room next.

"We haven't any news."

"Officer Lestrade?" The Yarder stood up and went to speak to the officer. Because Sherlock was attacked, they wanted it reported. The officer named Lestrade would get that taken care of for him.

"He says Sherlock inhaled blood from his broken nose when he was trying to breathe with broken ribs. That's why he coughed up blood. He passes out from lack of oxygen, and his ribs, again, prevented that. He'll be just fine." After another half an hour, Sherlock was being wheeled from the room, and looking weak.

"Mum." Sherlock whispered, as she kissed his cheek. Kirsty came into view then.

"Sherlock? Are you okay?" The father looked at Sherlock in compassion. The brother was furious. He was one of Sherlock's bullies.

"I'm all right, Kirsty."

"Thank you, for standing up for me." Kirsty said. "That creep shattered my left hand."

"Sounds like the majority of my ribs." Sherlock said. She looked at him. "I would do it again, you know." Kirsty smiled. "Malcolm shouldn't have pushed you. Your a girl. It's disrespectful to push down a girl. Especially when he would be able to bench press about...five of you." Sherlock said. She blushed and giggled. "Thanks for standing up for me." Sherlock, with assistance of the Officer that Sherlock didn't know (yes, it's still Lestrade) and his mother, Sherlock got out of the wheelchair. Kirsty hugged Sherlock.

"Don't touch that freak."

"Mark." Kirsty said. "Leave him alone."

"No, he's a weirdo. He doesn't even have friends." Sherlock felt Mycroft wrap an arm around his shoulders.

"Talk about my brother like that again, and you will not have an enjoyable last year of high school." Sherlock was grateful for his brother.

"Slander him, and we'll have a court case against you." Kirsty hugged Sherlock.

"I hope you get better."

"Same to you, Kirsty." She kissed his cheek, and went off with her family. Sherlock smiled.

Maybe the night hadn't ended so badly after all...


	2. Chapter 2

The next day at school, Sherlock was in serious pain. He bent down to pick up his Calculus textbook, and hissed in pain, standing straight up, and clutching at his chest. His ribs were a bit bruised and sore, and it was making every task agony.

"Let me help you with that." Sherlock looked at the voice, and found his eyes were met with Kirsty's green ones. "Please?" The cast around her arm was blank. He was surprised she was in school at all.

"Um, thanks." Sherlock said. She lifted his bag with her good hand, and he lifted out a book. His chest still throbbed, but it was less painful this way. He stored away his books, and pulled out the ones he knew he'd need, before closing his locker, and gingerly easing his backpack on. "So, nobody's signed your cast?" Sherlock was surprised that the most popular girl in school hadn't gotten a single signature on her cast.

"No, I hid it. I wanted you to be the first to sign it." She said, holding out a Magic Marker. Sherlock looked a bit surprised, before taking the marker, and uncapping it, before he scrawled his signature across it, and gave it a thought, before he scrawled "Thanks" underneath. Sherlock recapped the marker, and handed it back. She giggled.

"Thanks? For what?" Sherlock blushed slightly.

"For getting in Malcolm's way when he was being a jerk." Sherlock said. "He wasn't very nice to either of us, and you seemed to be the only one with the guts to stand up to him." Sherlock coughed rather wheezily. He was having an allergic reaction.

"You okay?"

"My asthma." Sherlock said. "I'm getting an allergic reaction to something." Sherlock pulled out his inhaler, and took a puff. He inhaled, and realized she smelled quite pleasantly. "You smell wonderful." Kirsty blushed.

"You like? It's a perfume I just got." She giggled. Sherlock grinned.

"Well it smells wonderful." The warning bell rang. "May I walk you to class?" It was a bold move for a very uneasy, inexperienced Sherlock.

"I would be honored." She said, looping her arm through his, before they walked off. Sherlock smiled, and they walked to class. Kirsty and Sherlock sat down, and were soon joined by Roger and Anna.

"Hey guys!" Anna said. "How are your ribs?"

"They hurt." Sherlock admitted. "They've been giving me grief all day." Roger winced, and patted him on the back gently. He had been scared for Sherlock all day and all last night.

"You okay though?" Roger asked.

"I've been better." Sherlock said. His eye's were both black, and his body was bruised badly, so people stopped and stared.

"Freak, what _happened_?" Dirk, from his Chemistry class, looked shocked.

"Malcolm happened."

"Ouch, that's happened to me twice. How are you not in the hospital right now?" Dirk was the only other boy in the school that knew what Sherlock was going through. They'd used their bully nicknames for one another, but without the maliciousness behind it. They were also familiar with one another from their Confirmation Classes.

"Anna called the cops." Roger said.

"Good for you." The bell rang. Sherlock pulled out his textbook, notebook, and pen.

"Good morning..." Mr. Davies, Sherlock's history teacher, looked at him in shock. "Sherlock, what _happened_?" Sherlock blushed, and looked at his hands, fiddling with a pen.

"We were attacked by Malcolm Flynn." Roger said, realizing his cousin wouldn't speak. A gasp ran around the room.

"You _survived_?"

"You're actually here?" Sherlock refused to look up.

"Are you okay?" Sherlock nodded, but not saying anything.

"All right, class, settle down. Now, today I want to talk about some current events. Give me one." The room was silent. "Nobody?"

"The feminist movement." Sherlock knew that the topic had only been picked, because Mrs. Davies was a feminist herself. He knew she would rant on the entire class, and they wouldn't have homework. Sherlock was good with it. His homework, which took ordinary people hours to finish, took him one, and it was almost too easy. He would rather spend the time sleeping off his injuries now, or even experimenting.

"Excellent." She said, her face lighting up. "What are we going to talk about today?" She looked at the newspapers on her desk. "Actually, let's talk crime. Why do the cops always assume it's a he? Women can be criminals."

"Because it's less likely. Scientifically speaking, men have a better advantage from their body mass and strength, so they're more likely to be able to kill people." Roger said.

"Because nobody suspects it's a woman." Kirsty added. "They just assume a man did it. Personally, I'm not complaining, it means I won't be questioned for murder anytime soon." Sherlock thought her point made sense. Looking at his mother, and sweet Mrs. Hudson, he never would suspect either of them for a murder. Alfonse had the body mass and strength to do it. Sherlock concluded that Roger's point, grouped with Kirsty's, made a valid argument against feminism.

"Because what woman barely taller than a fifth grade girl is going to be able to kill a man taller than Freak." Sherlock had hit his major growth spurt already, and was 6 feet tall. "She'd have a higher chance of being killed by him no matter what. Even if she had an athlete's body, it wouldn't necessarily be enough."

"All right. But, what _could _make it a woman?"

"Jealousy, hate, an affair." Kirsty said. "Sometimes all three."

"But that's easy, they get a gun and kill the offender. A mugging won't always be like that." Roger countered back.

"True." Kirsty said. "Very true." Sherlock was thinking, Roger could see it. He wondered what about.

At lunch the four of them sat together.

"Look, Freak's got friends." Someone shouted. Sherlock blew them off.

"He actually has friends?"

"They must be freaks too, they're hanging out with the biggest one!"

"I hate those guys." Roger muttered.

"They've always been like that." Kirsty said. "I only put up with half of them because my parents know their parents."

"Well, I for one, wouldn't even do that." Anna said. "They're all downright mean."

"Unfortunately, my parents make me. They expect me to work for one of their companies or whatever."

"Good thing my dad is a forensics pathologist. I'm good with following that." Roger said.

"You like dead people?" Anna asked, slightly surprised. Roger shrugged, and Sherlock smirked.

"They aren't nasty, rude, or winy when you mess up something." The three laughed, Sherlock just bit into his sandwich. Sherlock was also finishing some homework. That way, he didn't have to do it later, and he could do his experiments.

"Why don't you guys stop by the shop later? Sherlock, I heard chess got canceled." Anna and Sherlock were in chess club together. "We could have a coffee and...well, the rest of us could do our homework, Sherlock could like...help." Sherlock blushed, and Roger laughed.

Two nights later, Sherlock was at dinner, when his mum asked him how school was.

"I made friends." He said simply. His father looked shocked, his mother excited.

"Oh, that's so amazing! When can we meet them?"

"_Mummy._" Sherlock complained. James smirked.

"Have them over for dinner one night. Friday we're going out, we'll see them for a few minutes, then you guys have the place to yourself. Well, accept Mycroft and Lucinda." Sherlock groaned. He wasn't fond of his brother's girlfriend. "Be nice. Lucinda isn't so bad."

"Mummy, she's _awful._" Sherlock complained. "She treats me like I'm five. And I can't see why Mycroft likes her so much."

"That's enough, Sherlock." James said sternly. "You will be civil to her. You're brother is very fond of Lucinda." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, for what she does in bed."

"_Sherlock_!" His mother scolded angrily. "How can you say such a thing?"

"I see it, I deduced it."

"Not that again. Look, Sherlock James Archibald, you are not going to deduce your brother's girlfriend to their faces, nor to anyone else. Understood? Mycroft and Lucinda will probably be out of your way for the most part." Sherlock didn't really want his friends over. His parents could be _so_ embarrassing. Then again, Father had said they were going out. Mrs. Holmes got up to take her plates to the kitchen.

"Where are you guys going on Friday?"

"Out to dinner and the cinema."

"Father, get real. That's too predictable. Take her somewhere better than the cinema." Sherlock said. "Try the opera, Mummy loves the opera."

"There isn't one in town."

"The Globe Theater is having a performance Friday evening. Roger's parents were planning on going too."

"What's playing?"

"I'll have to ask Roger. Actually, is it of any inconvenience to you if Roger stays the night Friday night?" The last time his parents went on a date, they went to a hotel room closer to their date location, and hadn't returned until the following morning. Sherlock didn't care, it left him freedom to do whatever he wanted, but it did get a bit lonely. Mrs. Hudson had been okay, but he couldn't just talk with her all day. Besides, Roger hadn't stayed over in ages. James only rolled his eyes.

"I swear, one minute I'm talking to a teenager, the next you're talking like your grandpa. Besides, Roger's always welcome to stay over."

"I want to be sure, Father, you know that." Sherlock said, finishing the last of his lasagna and taking his plate to the kitchen. "Will Joel be picking us up then?"

"From school? If they want to come over then. You'll have to talk to Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock nodded, and went into the kitchen, gave his mother his dishes, and went off to finish the little bit of homework he had. Sherlock went to his room, and found Mrs. Hudson already there, dusting. He smiled.

"Mrs. Hudson." They hugged.

"Sherlock, dear. How are you?"

"Well. Mrs. Hudson, I may be having my friends over on Friday. And Roger's staying over. Is that all right with you?" She smiled.

"Of course, love. I'm just glad there's someone in that school that will be nice to such a sweet boy." Sherlock looked uneasy.

"Can I tell you a secret?" She looked at him, his eyes filled with uncertainty, and slight...fear? She sat down on his bed, and patted it gently.

"Come on, tell me all about it, sweetheart." Sherlock sat down next to her.

"Two of my friends are girls. I'm afraid of what Mummy's going to react like when she finds out. They're going out Friday, and I'm afraid she'll say they can't come over because...she'll be afraid that Roger and I will try something with them."

"Now, dear, you won't be alone. I'll be here, but I'll stay out of your way. And Mycroft's coming home. I hear he's bringing that girlfriend of his."

"I don't like Lucinda." Sherlock said. "The last time she was here, she made me feel like a little kid, and that I wasn't worth the time. She made me feel like I was just being mean. But Mrs. Hudson, I don't_ like_ being mean." He sounded like a younger version of himself, sad, small, and hurt. "People are mean to me, and it hurts. I'm not trying to be mean, I was just telling her what I knew about her." Mrs. Hudson pulled Sherlock into her arms.

"I know, I'm not fond of her either." She said. "She's not very nice to you. I can't fathom why Mycroft likes her so much." Sherlock shrugged. "Tell you what, Mr. Hudson has to come over and fix some things up anyway. Maybe he can get Mycroft to help out, and Lucinda can go do her...whatever she does." Sherlock grinned.

"Thanks, Mrs. H." Sherlock hugged her. "Can I help you with deciding on dinner that night?"

"Of course. You all right if we order pizza that night, and I can make snacks for you guys later?"

"Sure." He said. "How late can they stay?"

"Whenever their parents decide they want to pick them up. I don't mind. The girls just can't stay overnight. How many are we expecting besides you?"

"Just three. Roger, Anna Thompson and Kirsty Jonas."

"Kirsty Jonas?" She looked surprised. "Callum and Erica's daughter?" Sherlock nodded. "Oh, that's wonderful, she's a sweetheart. I'm good with that." She bustled off. Sherlock got up and did his homework. Afterwords, Roger called and he asked Roger to come over for Friday night. Sherlock went into the library to read. In there, he found Alfonse on his break. Alfonse was for extra hands, in case Mrs. Hudson or Joel needed the help. Mostly, he was a second set of hands for Mrs. Holmes when she cooked. Alfonse was a friend of Mr. Holmes, and had needed financial help. They had decided that this was a good working arrangement. Alfonse and Mycroft were close, much like Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh, hello, Sherlock."

"Hello, Alfonse." Sherlock said, sitting down. "Can I ask you something in confidence?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Do you like Lucinda?"

"Heavens no, she's dreadfully boring. Maybe that's why Mycroft likes her, they can be boring together." Alfonse liked Mycroft, but often teased him that he was boring. Sherlock smiled.

"So, I'm not the only one? Mummy and Father freaked out when I said I didn't like her." Alfonse rolled his eyes.

"They aren't particularly fond of her either, son, but they put up with her because your brother likes her. A lot. I can tell you right now, it's only because he's sleeping with her." Sherlock nodded.

"I know the feeling. I've deduced it from them."

"I've taken the trash from his bedroom. Empty condom boxes and wrappers often fall out. I've been lucky not to find a used condom." Sherlock laughed.

"Oh, I can't wait till you do. That's the perfect blackmail we can use against him." They high-fived. Alfonse liked Mycroft, but sense Mycroft had moved out, he'd grone rather fond of the youngest Holmes. Mrs. Hudson came in.

"Are you two conspiring?"

"Blackmail on Mycroft." Sherlock said, his eyes wide with excitement. "Let Alfonse and I take care of Mycroft's room, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said. "Don't you worry." Mrs. Hudson looked very worried. Alfonse only laughed.

"Oh, don't worry, nothing dangerous. Only embarrassing. Let's go see what happens, Sherlock." They left the room to see if they had evidence.

Mycroft had only been home the night of Sherlock's fight. Lucinda had called at some point, while Sherlock was sitting in Mycroft's office. He was kicked out. They decided to clean the bedroom first, in case Mycroft had moved the cordless phone into his bedroom. The bedroom didn't look like Mycroft was in it, so Alfonse dusted, while Sherlock looked for anything incriminating, and deduced what he could about his brother. A picture of Sherlock and Mycroft , before he'd become overweight, sat on the end table, both boys looking uncomfortable.

"He didn't sleep in here." Sherlock told Alfonse. They went next door, into Mycroft's office. Each of the Holmes boys had been given an office once they went to school. Alfonse and Sherlock went into the office, and found that Mycroft had been there. There was dried drool on the desk, where Mycroft had fallen asleep. The phone had been used, Sherlock noticed, by the fact that there were oils from Mycroft's face on it. Sherlock found a notepad he knew Mycroft often doodled on while on the phone. The words "You make e harder than the covalent bonds in diamonds." They burst out laughing.

"Oh, this is gold." Sherlock said, grinning.

"Are you sending that to your brother?" Sherlock laughed.

"Of course." He said to the man, laughing and walking away. Alfonse laughed loudly, the laugh following Sherlock down to his bedroom.


End file.
